That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. “Parmesan—take it away!” He glanced at Ann Veronica’s face, and it seemed to him that she really was exceptionally radiant.
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